


Yoga

by Moreena



Series: Shameless Smut Series [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yoga, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8771641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Duo drags Quatre to his weekly yoga class.  With the mindset of setting his lonely blonde friend up with the hot yoga instructor, one Trowa Barton.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the first in a series of super self indulgent porn fics. All super cheesy and super tropey. Because I can. Also, feel free to send me prompts or pairings.

“Duo, I really don’t want to be doing this,” Quatre said, his voice a step before a whine.

“Trust me Quat! It’ll be fun. You need to do some yoga.”

“I don’t ‘need’ anything,” Quatre grumbled, folding his arms over his chest as the loitered in the lobby of the gym.

“Listen, the instructor is totally your type. He’s the tall, strong, and silent type,” Duo said, braid swinging merrily as he whipped his head around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

Sighing heavily, Quatre fixed the other man with a hard glare.

“Strong and silent is your type. May I remind you of Chad? Of Heero? Wufei? Heero again?” He stressed, each name making Duo’s cheeks heat.

“Well…” Duo trailed off, taking a quick sip from his water bottle, throat muscles working as he swallowed.

“Oh, god don’t tell me you and Heero are off again and you jumped back to Wufei,” Quatre moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“Not exactly… Let’s just say that the three of us came to an… Agreement, of sorts.”

It was Quatre’s turn to sputter, his jaw half-way down his chest as his mind rolled over the implications of what Duo had just told him. Oh god, the brunette was an insatiable beast, with an obsession for the silent, brooding type. He liked trying to make them be as vocal as possible. Duo laughed at his friend’s flabbergasted face, doubled over, hands on his black spandex-clad thighs.

“The look on your face Quat… I swear, you look like you lost ten years off your life,” he managed to squeeze out in between laughs, wiping at the corners of his eyes.

Quatre was spared from having to answer as a lanky hunk of a man sauntered over towards the small group assembled by the front desk. He had soft-looking, gravity defying brunette hair that curved outwards over one stunning green eye. It was like looking into a lush forest in the depths of spring, when everything was green and vibrant. Corded muscle stood out on his bare arms, and Quatre could tell his legs were the same, encased in skin tight spandex himself. His olive skin looked like he spent enough time outside to have a darker tint to it, only accentuated by the bright blue of his tank top that showed his collar bones off nicely.

Was he sweating already? They hadn’t even started yet. Duo grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, flashing him a saucy wink. Quatre was screwed.

“Trowa, this is my friend Quatre. I’ve been raving about your class and he’s finally agreed to try it out. I’m hoping to convince him to join up,” Duo said, practically shoving the blonde at the instructor.

Quatre was shorter than the brunette by a few inches, and almost the exact opposite of him. Where Trowa was all muscle, Quatre was fit enough, but not with the definition that Trowa had. Quatre was pale, his skin terrified of the sun for any longer than an hour, while his hair was a soft blonde, curling a little at the base of his neck, telling him that he was well over due for a haircut. And his eyes were a soft blue, that some had said reminded them of a calm ocean. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said out of habit, reaching out to shake hands with the other man.

At the touch of their skin, Quatre had to make sure his mouth was closed, afraid that he was drooling, and that the shock of the touch. Trowa seemed to somewhat share his opinion, his eyes doing a pointed, but quick once-over of Quatre’s body.

“The pleasure is all mine. Don’t be upset if I seem to be picking on you more than the others. I want to make sure you take something away from today’s class, besides the hope that you come back,” he said with a strange little smile, backing away to call the group to attention.

He clenched his hand, fingers still tingling from the almost electric touch. Duo grinned at him, all teeth as he playfully elbowed him. Rolling his eyes, Quatre adjusted his grip on his water bottle, following the rest of the group into the closed off studio room. They all grabbed mats and laid them out, others chatting with people they knew. Duo made sure he was right next to Quatre, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face. He hadn’t missed the subtle sparks that had flown between the instructor and his best friend. Quatre made it a point to ignore his long-haired friend, determined to focus and give it his all. Maybe he needed yoga to relax.

“So, like usual today, we’ll start off with some breathing techniques. Sit cross-legged on your mat, hands on your knees. Close your eyes and focus on centering yourself. Inhale deeply through your nose, hold for five seconds, then exhale slowly through your nose. We’ll do this for five minutes. Remember how the breathing pattern feels. It’s how we’ll breathe during the routines,” he instructed, looking over each of the adults in his class, watching how they followed the instructions.

Quatre did his best, though he kept getting distracted by the idea of Trowa, all sweaty… And, all that strength holding him down, fucking him in long steady strokes…. It had been much too long since he’d last gotten laid. He was a confirmed bachelor, but didn’t like flitting from bed to bed like Duo did. No, Quatre liked to have at least a bit of a connection with whom he was sleeping. Of course, his best friend dragging him to this class, to meet the instructor was Duo’s not so subtle attempt to set him up, and try to get him laid, in one fell swoop.

When Trowa was satisfied that everyone was relaxed, he slowly led them through a simple pose routine, helping them get stretched and limber. Once he’d showed a pose, he carefully unfolded himself and went around correcting form, telling them what pose to transition to next as he went. He found his eyes drifting to the back of the room to the new blonde man. He was hot, and Trowa had no problem admitting that. Yeah, it had been a while since his last boyfriend, but he was a hot-blooded male, and knew both what he wanted, and what he needed.

He wanted to avoid touching the blonde, but he just couldn’t. Between wanting to make sure that he came back to future classes, and his deep-seated instruction orientated mind, he had to. Each time he touched the blonde’s arm or hip, he felt that almost electric shock run through him from head to toe. He wondered what would happen if he slept with the blonde. Would they both feel that jolt?

“Ok, now everyone we’re going to transition to downward dog one last time, before we start our cool down,” he said, watching as people shifted. 

The blonde had it mostly right, but he wasn’t bent enough, and had his legs wrong. Trowa carefully moved between students to him, making sure that Quatre saw his approach. Quatre nodded at him, indicating that he’d seen him. His hands were firm but gentle, nudging Quatre’s feet flat back on the mat, pulling his hips backwards to move his center of gravity. The position wasn’t lost on either of them; Trowa standing behind the prone blonde, hands a solid weight on Quatre’s hips. He pulled away before it became too obvious or inappropriate.

Quatre’s body was on fire, and he was afraid to stand up, knowing his body would betray him. Trowa’s hands on his flesh had ignited every nerve ending, had made him crave more, like a man in the desert dying of thirst. His mind was only half on following the rest of the class. His body moved on its own, going through the motions of the cool down, mimicking Duo when he forgot a step, or wasn’t entirely sure of the pose. They ended laying on their backs, feet together, knees outward towards the floor, and Quatre stayed there, breathing in slow, but heavy. He was slick with sweat, his bangs sticking to his forehead. He’d taken his time, sucking in deep breaths to try and calm his libido, and his raging erection.

Duo sat up and looked him over, an eyebrow arched at him. Like he knew what was going on in Quatre’s head. Reaching out, he put a gentle hand on Quatre’s shoulder, giving him a brief smile before he rolled himself gracefully to his feet, practically bouncing with energy. Quatre groaned at him, still amazed that Duo could do so much and have the energy level of a toddler.

“I’m glad you came Quatre. Next class is next week. I wanna stay and chat, but I’ve got to run to work,” he said, tossing him a wave before he was gone, Quatre gaping in disbelief once again as he propped himself into a sitting position.

Twisting open his water, Quatre took a long swallow, watching as the classroom emptied out, watching the others take their rolled-up mats and drop them in a bin by the door to be sanitized. A shadow fell over him and he flashed a smile full of teeth up at Trowa. Carefully folding himself up, Trowa sat down on the floor next to Quatre, looking like a cat that could sit for hours in that single position. He let his eyes drink their fill, wondering what had prompted this.

“I wanted to let you know that you did very well considering you’ve never done yoga before,” Trowa offered up.

“That obvious huh?” Quatre asked with a laugh.

“Just a bit,” Trowa admitted with a smile. “I do offer free private lessons,” he suggested.

Quatre thought on it, wondering if he wasn’t imaging things. He didn’t think the desire was one-sided, as far as he could tell. He’d felt those green eyes practically undressing him, even though his clothes didn’t leave much to the imagination. That hungry gaze was on him again, and he swallowed, his throat making a soft noise.

“Are they actually lessons, or…? And, do you offer them to everyone?”

“It depends on if I’m reading your body language right. And no, I only offer them to select people. You’d be the first in quite a few months,” Trowa said, hoping from the deepest recesses of his being that Quatre would agree.

It only took Quatre a heartbeat to respond. He didn’t know what rabbit hole he’d fallen into, but he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to climb back up from it.

“I’m free Thursday night, if you are,” he breathed out, voice barely carrying.

“Thursday it is. My last class ends at nine,” he said, pushing himself off the floor before he offered a hand down to the blonde.

Quatre took it, feeling that same jolt run through him like when they’d first shaken hands. There was just something special about the brunette and it sang to him. Made him want to break all of his own personal rules and ideals.

“I’d love to keep flirting with you, but I have another class about to start, and I don’t know how kindly management would take of me engaging one of my clients in such an obvious state of debauchery,” Trowa teased.

He reached down for Quatre’s mat and walked to the bin by the door, watching with hooded eyes as the blonde practically sashayed to the door, giving Trowa one last lingering, predatory gaze before he was gone, leaving Trowa practically drooling after the other man.

 

Two days was a length of time to wait when you were nothing more than mere strangers. Trowa wouldn’t have blamed the sensual little blonde for not showing. It wasn’t like Quatre was a student of his, so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness between them. If he didn’t show up, he didn’t have to face those shimmering blue eyes in class, or even just in the gym on a regular basis. Really, there wasn’t an investment, and half of Trowa didn’t think he’d show up.

Quatre had a similar thought train, without even knowing it. He wasn’t sure if the spark between the pair of them would still be there after having a chance to wither away. Did it really matter if that tentative connection was gone? He really did need to have sex with someone other than his own hand. With that resolve plastered into the forefront of his mind, he made sure he showed up Thursday night, heading into the gym about a half hour early. He was in loose basketball shorts and a white t-shirt as he scanned the room, trying not to look obvious.

Through the windows of the classroom, he could see people doing more complex moves than what he’d been doing the other day. The brunette instructor was easy to spot as he wove his way between his students, adjusting form, offering compliments, his muscled form a work of art in motion. While Quatre didn’t want to seem like a stalker, he did want to be in view when the class ended, so he could say hello, and see if that offer for private lessons still stood. He selected an elliptical with a clear view into the room, so he could peruse to his heart’s content without being too obvious. Setting the machine for a mild pace, he let the machine take over, moving his arms and legs on auto pilot. He couldn’t help but stare! The man was just sex on legs, and the fact that his clothing was skin tight and showed off every plane of muscle! How could anyone with a pulse not want him?

As if called by his thoughts, Trowa turned for the briefest of seconds to glace out into the gym as he instructed the class through their cool down. Sharp eyes caught sight of the blonde in the front of the gym, and Trowa graced him with the barest upturn of his lips before he was all business. Quatre’s heart gave a little jump, and he pressed the cool down button on the machine so he could ease up. He hadn’t wanted to expend too much energy, just in case. It beeped to a stop and Quatre took the chance to take a drink from his water bottle, watching as the students began to file out, chatting amongst themselves. Sauntering over into the classroom, he watched Trowa take care of his own mat and make sure the room was clear before he flicked off the light.

“Glad to see you came back,” he breathed out, tipping his head to indicate that Quatre should follow him.

They wound up in a small room, which at one point must’ve held a tanning bed. It had been converted now though, with shiny wood floors, a small bin of yoga mats, and a light that wasn’t too harsh on the eyes when it was turned on. It wasn’t impressive to look at, but Quatre wasn’t exactly here for the décor. Trowa closed the door, and Quatre heard the snick of the lock engaging, and it sent a tremor of desire down his body.

“I had to see if that spark was still here,” he said, approaching Trowa like he was stalking his next meal.

Trowa’s back pressed flush to the door, watching the approach with hooded eyes, palms flat to the cool wood. Quatre rose on his toes and tugged hard at the back of the brunette’s head, pulling him down for a filthy hot kiss. That zap of excitement was still there, as Quatre let out a low rumble of a moan, Trowa pressing his split-second advantage to plunder the smaller man’s mouth. His knees shook, and the blonde dug his fingers into one of Trowa’s biceps to keep himself upright. Trowa broke the kiss to smirk down at him.

“It’s been a long time for me,” Trowa admitted, breaking the kiss to press their foreheads together.

He tried to control his breathing, to calm his runaway heart so it would stop trying to beat its way out of his chest. Quatre didn’t seem to be faring any better, which was a bit of comfort.

“I couldn’t tell you how many months it’s been. Honestly, I really just want you to fuck me. Talk later, just… Just take the edge off, please,” he whispered, one of his hands boldly sliding down the taller man’s body to cup at his groin.

Trowa answered with a soft grunt, biting down on his lower lip to keep from crying out. They had to be fairly quiet, because as much as Trowa wanted to lose himself in the blonde, he also needed to keep his job, and fucking a client wasn’t exactly high on the ways to keep his position. If he ever did fuck Quatre again, it would be in a bed, and in a place where he could simply let the other man scream himself hoarse, and Trowa could drink down every cry and shout like a finely aged wine. He spun them around, pressing Quatre’s back to the door, giving him a wolfish grin.

“I’ll take the edge off for you.” He promised, fingers curling into the waistband of Quatre’s shorts, pulling them down, leaving him gloriously bare. “Prepared huh?” He teased, leaning in to nuzzle at the blonde’s cock with his cheek.

Trowa took a moment to admire the cock in front of him. He was long and not overly girthy, the tip a dusky pink, looking almost ready to burst from just the bit they’d done. Clearly, Quatre hadn’t been lying about how long it had been, and that he was practically desperate for it. His balls were drawn up high, and Trowa had to hope that he wouldn’t come at the first touch. He wanted to savor the taste of him, see how long he could make the smaller man hold out before he was begging.

“Lube… In my shorts pocket,” Quatre groaned out, dropping his head back against the door, kicking his shorts aside so they wouldn’t get in the way.

Trowa nodded and grabbed them, fingers deftly searching both pockets before he came up with a travel packet of lube. Dimly, he hoped it would be enough to prepare the blonde and himself, or Quatre was going to be hurting. Unless the lithe man liked that. That was a discussion for another day, if it happened. Without warning, Trowa surged up, wrapping his lips around the top of Quatre’s cock, tongue flicking back and forth across the flesh in his mouth.

Quatre shoved his hand in his mouth, biting down on the skin between his thumb and index finger to muffle his sharp cry of ecstasy. His hips canted forward, cock thrusting further into Trowa’s mouth than he was prepared for. He gagged and pulled back to an easier depth, eyes rolling up to the blonde in a warning. Quatre nodded in apology, fingers moving to tangle in the softer than he though brunette hair, curling around a small handful. Satisfied that Quatre would mind his manners, Trowa went back to work, slowly sucking on Quatre’s cock, bobbing his head in a lazy rhythm, working his length deeper into his mouth.

Blindly, Trowa fumbled with the foil packet, finally managing to tear it open, spreading some onto his fingers. He warmed it for a moment before he slipped his fingers backwards, pressing against Quatre’s perineum with his thumb, his index finger searching out the puckered ring of flesh. He pressed, moaning around the length in his mouth as his finger slipped inside with almost no resistance. Looking up at Quatre, his own aching arousal throbbed in sympathy. Quatre’s head was rolling back and forth against the door, his hair mussed and sticking to his forehead with sweat and exertion.

It was hard trying to keep quiet as his hole was plundered, Trowa’s finger probing in and out without restraint, trying to relax his entrance. His cock being sucked, like the brunette was trying to draw his soul out through his shaft and balls. As if by drawing it out and drinking it down, it would make Quatre come back again and again. As the second finger slipped in, Quatre bit down on his hand again, cheeks flushed as he met Trowa’s gaze, eyes glossy with arousal and pure need.

“Please,” he whimpered, trying to shift his legs apart.

Trowa let up on Quatre’s perineum, using his free hand to help. He pulled off Quatre’s shoe and lifted the leg, draping it over his back so the only things keeping the blonde upright were his one leg, and Trowa’s unrelenting grip on the blonde’s hipbone. It spread him open wider, let Trowa’s digits slip deeper, and Quatre rocked down onto them, taking them until Trowa’s hand bottomed out, and he curled his fingers, stroking across Quatre’s prostate. Grinding down hard, Quatre undulated his hips, seeking relief, less stimulation, and more all at the same time. 

His body gave up, hips stilling, his body arching tighter than a bow string as he came in a hot flood, filling Trowa’s mouth without warning. He pulled back at the first burst of salty fluid, giving himself some room. He swallowed out of reflex, drinking down each pulse until the blonde was spent, his body giving off minute trembles, voice raw and hoarse from straining to be quiet. Easing his fingers off Quatre’s prostate, Trowa sat back a little, keeping his grip firm, knowing the blonde was weak and blissed out.

“Feel less edgy?” He asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand to make sure he got every drop.

All Quatre could do was nod, incapable of speech for the moment. With a tenderness Trowa didn’t expect from himself, given their situation, he withdrew his fingers and helped Quatre sit on the floor, giving him space and time to catch his breath and calm his heart. While he calmed, Trowa moved to the side of the room and grabbed two of the yoga mats, laying them out in the middle of the floor next to one another, dropping the packet of lube next to them. There wasn’t much left, but it would do.

“I don’t have words,” Quatre managed to say when Trowa sidled back to him.

“That’s usually a good sign. I bet I can make you even less coherent, if you’re still up for it.”

Trowa bit the inside of his cheek, stopping before he drew blood. Technically, Quatre had gotten off, and he could just leave if he wanted. They hadn’t actually agreed to anything. It would be a hard pill to swallow, but Trowa had been friends with Rosie Palm for months already, what were a few more? As if he sensed where Trowa’s thoughts were going, Quatre sat forward, mashing their lips together again, nipping at Trowa’s bottom lip before he retreated, giving him a sassy smile.

“I felt what you’re hiding in those shorts, and I really want to feel how wide you’ll split me open,” he purred, his voice both innocent and seductive, scooting around Trowa to crawl across the floor to the mats, putting an extra sway into his ass.

The brunette half turned to watch, licking his lips hungrily as Quatre moved away. His gaze was drawn to that shapely ass, the way it curved, how it seemed perfectly pert and round. The brief glimpse at Quatre’s slightly loosened hole. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off the floor and followed, as if he were hypnotized by the blonde. Quatre tossed off his shirt and kicked off his other sneaker and his socks, completely naked as he settled himself on the yoga mat.

His forearms took most of his weight, his chest pressed against the floor while he spread his legs, knees shifting open naturally. It left him open and exposed, even more so when he lifted his hips up, a blatant invitation for the other man. Turning his head, he fixed Trowa with a ‘come hither’ stare, knowing he looked like sex on legs in the provocative position.

“I meant it Trowa. I want you to fuck me with your cock. The sooner the better. I’m dying for it,” he whined.

It broke every last thread of restraint that Trowa possessed. Like a puppet on strings, he stripped off his clothes, uncaring where they landed. He’d wanted to give Quatre time to get his second wind. Clearly, he didn’t need it. Trowa was never one to deny a lover when they were so wanton and vocal about how they wanted it. Kneeling between Quatre’s parted legs, he took a deep breath. The room smelled like the blonde, and had the distinctive odor of sex. It rolled over his brain like a MAC truck. Made him deaf and dumb to everything but his burning arousal and the desire to please the man under him. He squeezed the rest of the lube from the packet and spread it over his cock. Quatre had been right. He was thick, with a decent length. He’d never had any complaints before, and he didn’t plan on starting a record today.

With the leftover lube, he plunged two fingers inside the willing orifice again, making sure there would be enough slide. Quatre mewled his pleasure into the floor, keeping his voice down as much as he could. He was going to be tight, and Trowa was going to have to fight for every inch he claimed of the blonde’s body.

“I hope you can take me on such a little amount of prep. It’s all you’re gonna get from me,” he said, voice gruff with pent up need.

“Just go slow. I can take it,” Quatre responded, giving his ass a shake to encourage the other man.

Holding his cock by the base, he pressed it against Quatre’s hole, his other hand pulling on one of his ass cheeks to spread him open. He wanted to watch as he filled the blonde. With inexorable slowness, he pushed. The tip of his cock spread his hole wider, and he didn’t relent, forcing the blonde to take it. He wasn’t surprised to see Quatre’s back rising and falling quickly as he tried to relax his body, tried to press backwards to impale himself before he was ready, and tried to stay quiet. His fingers pulled at the mat underneath him, whimpering softly. He wanted it, savored the burn as he was spread open by nothing but Trowa’s cock. He’d always loved it with the edge of danger and pain to it, so he took it. He knew that once Trowa was half way in, his body would accept it, and then the real fun would begin.

“You’re so fucking tight around me,” Trowa groaned out through gritted teeth.

The urge to just slam into him, to just fuck him until he was spent was hard to fight. But, he wanted to do this again, so he wouldn’t be rash. He still had some of his brain, even though most of his blood flow was gone to parts south. It was torture and nirvana all in the same motion, until his was fully seated, his hips pressed into the flawless skin of Quatre’s ass. He waited, breathing sharply as he tried to keep his wits about him. As soon as Quatre indicated he was ready, he’d let go of his iron control.

It didn’t take Quatre long to be ready for it, to beg. His sweet melodic voice egging Trowa on, filling his mind with depraved thoughts, spurring him into action.

“Fuck Trowa. I’m so fucking full. Fuck me, please. Use your cock to get me off, fuck me,” he babbled, reduced to almost pure lust and sensation.

Trowa took advantage of it, and used every muscle in his body to fuck him. He used his thighs and back to propel him forward, slamming as deep inside of the willing blonde as he could get. His fingers dug into the flesh of Quatre’s hips, leaving red marks, and marks that would probably bruise by the following day. His arms helped adjust Quatre’s hips so when he thrust in, the head of his cock stroked along Quatre’s prostate, wringing broken sobs from his as his arousal only climbed higher and higher, his cock bobbing between his legs. They both rocked and pressed, drove one another higher and higher. Quatre moved one of his arms to shove his mouth into the crook of his elbow, stifling his cries. When it wasn’t enough to stop the cadence of his cries, he bit down on the flesh of his arm, teeth leaving marks.

The brunette was faring no better, using every ounce of training he had in relaxation and breathing to keep his orgasm at bay. He wanted Quatre to come first, to lose himself in everything he’d done and taken. And, Quatre had taken a lot. Trowa had never been able to be this forceful with his past lovers, had always had to dull the rough edge he sometimes liked to skirt with his sex. As he fucked into Quatre, the blonde’s body shifted, the tip of his cock being dragged across the textured material of the yoga mat and he was done in.

Quatre whimpered into his arm, his cock jerking as he came without being touched, spurting come underneath him. His entire body quaked with the force of his orgasm, making his muscles contract and spasm. It did Trowa in, and he shoved himself in a handful of more times. Pressed balls deep into Quatre, he came in long, heavy spurts, filling the blonde’s body, biting his lip almost bloody as he grunted out his orgasm

They remained in position, both of them panting as they tried to come down from their orgasmic high, Trowa’s strength and stamina the only thing keeping him upright at the moment. He didn’t think they’d been loud enough to be found out. They gym wasn’t that busy at this time of night, thankfully. Carefully, he let his spent cock slip from Quatre’s body, watching with pride as a trickle of come immediately leaked out, running down Quatre’s inner thigh.

When he was free, Quatre flopped down onto the mat into his own mess, uncaring. His limbs were both heavy and loose at the same time, his body slack with being sated. He tipped his head to smile at Trowa, flashing him thumbs up.

“That was so fucking worth it,” Quatre admitted with a chuckle.

“Yes, it was. Though we did make quite a mess of you. Are you going to be comfortable driving home like that?” He said, indicating the sticky fluid that clung to Quatre’s stomach and thighs.

Quatre sat up with a chuckle, comfortable being naked and looking thoroughly like he’d just had the best orgasm of his life.

“Good thing I brought a change of clothes and signed up for a gym membership, so I have access to the showers.”

They both shared a laugh, and Trowa gathered up their scattered clothes, handing Quatre’s to him, watching him dress out of the corner of his eye. Quatre felt the gaze, and while he wasn’t ready for another round right then and there, there would be other times.

“How about you give me your number before I leave? I’d love to do this again at my house. No nearby neighbors,” Quatre said, a devious smirk unfurling on his face.

“I think you read my mind. I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t mind taking private clients at their homes, to teach them all the benefits of yoga.”

“I’m going to need to improve my flexibility, just so I can keep up with you.”


End file.
